Sans Harry-Prologue
by Stargirl1
Summary: What would the world be like if the infamous Harry Potter, the 'boy who lived' didn't live? Who would live, and who would die? Who would suffer, and who would surrender? Who would betray, and who would burn? The effect of one person on the entire world.
1. Default Chapter Title

Prologue~

Welcome

Today is July 17, 1981

A baby started to cry.

"Lily, would you get that?" A man asked his wife. The man was standing by his front door, muttering unrecognizable incantations, and pointing his wand to the door. He was holding a piece of paper, and it looked as if he was reading the incantations off the paper. 

The woman called Lily was sitting on a small loveseat in the living room of the house on Godric's Grove, and reading a newspaper called 'The Daily Prophet.' She put down the newspaper, and went into the next room. She turned on a light, and went over to the crib in the corner of the room. There, a baby sat with jet-black hair like his father's, and emerald eyes which were from his mother.

The mere sight of his mother made the child stop crying. Instead, he cooed for his mother to pick him up, which she did.

She took her baby boy, which she named Harry, and she sat down in a rocking chair in another corner of the room, and she rocked slowly, Harry cooing and moving his little hands, like he was trying to clap.

She started to sing, more to herself than to Harry. There was just so much right now, so much to fight, so much to protect, so much to worry about, and the only comfort she could really find was the love of her family, but even then, worries of death, worries of loss entered her mind. Singing seemed to help. 

Harry stopped clapping after a while, and put his hands on his mother's necklace, and found enjoyment by playing with the necklace. It was a small, almost invisible necklace that held a small diamond shaped into a heart, dangling from a thin, silver chain. It was a present from James on their first anniversary. 

Lily of course, didn't notice the small actions of her baby boy while she was singing. She barely knew she was there, and unaware that she was just rocking back and fourth, in a state of tranquility.

_'If only all my thoughts could be as tranquil as this.'_

_She kept singing to herself, and rocking back and fourth, Harry still finding excitement with the necklace. But then Lily stopped singing, and Harry stopped playing._

"Lily, it's him!" James yelled. She knew perfectly well who him was. 'Him' was after Lily and James, for a reason unknown to most. "Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off-" and then all that was heard was laughter from a voice, a voice which sounded smooth and oily, a voice that you knew you could never trust. The laughter wasn't from a funny joke; it was an evil laugh, a laugh of victory. Lily was up, carrying Harry, and trying to find another way out of the house besides the front door, which was where the living room was, where the laughter came from.

In the midst of all the laughing, there was a sound, a sound that made Lily freeze. The sound of a corpse falling to the ground. The laughter increased. 

The laughter stopped and all there was was silence. Lily kept frozen, hoping and praying that he wouldn't come for her and Harry. She had to stay alive, for Harry's sake. But then the silence was broken, by footsteps, coming her way. They were quiet, yet loud, Lily couldn't tell, her ears were playing tricks on her, they wouldn't function right. She ran to the crib, and put Harry inside softly, and put a blanket over him to keep him concealed. If she was going to die, Harry was going to live.

She turned around to hide herself, but it was too late.

Standing in the doorway of Harry's room was Lord Voldemort. He walked closer to Lily, saying and doing nothing. Lily couldn't do anything without the aide of her wand, which was in her own room. She then froze once again, afraid to make any sudden movements. She stared at him, and he stared back at her. But then he went to Harry's crib, where she thought was the last place he would go. Lily ran in front of the crib, and threw her arms up in defense.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" She begged, almost dropping to her already weak knees.

"Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside now!" Voldemort yelled to her. He didn't want to kill her; there was no purpose in it, and no real enjoyment. He just wanted to kill her family, and make her suffer. Suffering was worse than dying, and was much more enjoyable, much more easier.

"Not Harry, please no! Take me, kill me instead!" Lily yelled, her knees going weaker than ever.

"You will obey, and you will stand aside." Voldemort said calmly, though the tone of voice he used would be able to scare most.

"Not Harry! Please, have mercy, have mercy!" Lily yelled, breathless. This time, her knees did give out to her, and she was on the floor, pleading for Harry's life. _'Not Harry.' She thought to herself.__ 'Anything but Harry.'_

_By this time, Lord Voldemort was fed up with her pleas of mercy for this little boy's life. He raised his wand, and was about to mutter a curse when he thought better of it. '__Suffering is more painful, let her suffer, like I had to suffer.'_

_He put down his wand, and put the wand into his other hand, his left hand. He raised his right high above him, and with all his might, it came down, and hit Lily across the face, which sent her flying to the other side of the room. Her body hit the wall, and she fell to the floor, and all was black._

He looked over to her to make sure that she was out of consciousness. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing slowly, which indicated to Voldemort that she was away from the rest of the world for now, leaving him free to do as he pleased.

He walked back to the crib, where little Harry Potter was in his crib, unaware of all that was going on. In fact, he was sound asleep again, breathing slowly without a care in the world, off to his little dreamland, unaware that he would never see his mother again.

"What is so special about this, this brat?" Voldemort asked himself. If there was one thing he could never understand, it was love, especially for children, who were worthless and selfish, and didn't have to worry about anything, they could just let the adults run the world while they played outside in the beautiful world. Deep down, he knew he didn't have children, but he was jealous of them, which he had mistaken for hate.

The boy awoke from Voldemort's raspy breathing. He stretched out a little on his bed, and looked at Lord Voldemort, but expecting to see the comforting face of his mother, or the smile that his father always wore, but instead, he was left to look at a man that he'd never seen. A man who looked evil from the very first glance, a man who was evil, even without his evil look. Harry looked around the room for his mother, but could not see the floor, where his mother laid, helpless.

"Why do these people love and cherish these brats so? I don't see what's so special about them. All they do is take up space for the productive people, people who have a purpose, and don't clutter up the earth." Voldemort said to Harry, half expecting him to answer. Harry, being raised by the parents that he had, did what he thought he should do.

He smiled.

"You are not afraid of me, are you? We'll see about that." Voldemort spat at Harry. Harry kept smiling at Voldemort, not knowing that his words, his actions, and his ways were all evil.

Voldemort raised his wand, feeling intimidated by a 1 year old infant. He found reason to make it a slow, painful death; the child could show no signs of pain except excessive wailing and crying, which do no good. He wanted to do it now, before the girl woke up.

And the 2 most feared words a wizard with a wand could ever say were said. More feared than Lord Voldemort, which came in a slow second compared to these 2 little words that did so much.

"Avada Kedavra." 

__


	2. Descendents of the Earth

I insist that you read the prologue before you read this. I'm also opening a website for Harry Potter Fanfiction. If you would like to be featured on this page, please let me, or my friend Mystery Girl know. And sorry if this isn't an accurate description of Sirius Black, I don't have the American version of the Harry Potter books, so there's no pictures or anything.

Chapter 1~Descentdants of the Earth

Welcome back

Today is August 10, 1997

We all walk this earth for a reason, a reason we all find out one day. I'm 42 years old, and I still have no idea of why this earth needs me. 

My first memory was when I was 25, yes, when I was 25. I can't remember anything before that; I can't remember why I forgot either. I hate this memory, it's a memory I wish to forget, but I can't. It will forever lurk in the dark shadows of my mind, and haunt me at times that are unpredictable. 

I remember it so clearly. I was on the floor, and I opened my eyes. There was the awful taste of blood in my mouth, but at the time, I couldn't remember what blood tasted like. I later found out that my lip was bleeding. I stood up, and looked around my surroundings. I was in a house, I was later told that it was my house, and it looked like there was a major earthquake, and this particular house got the worst of it. I saw a crib, and then I realized that I was in a baby's room, and there crib was straight in front of me. 

I was drawn to the crib for some reason, like there was something urging me to peek inside. The first person I ever remember seeing, was a baby, a baby boy with black hair, and green eyes. That baby was dead.

I nearly fainted at this sight. Why would a baby be dead? Was it because of the earthquake? Was I the only survivor? 

When that question flooded into my mind, I went to look for others, others that might still be alive. I looked for a door, and saw one directly behind me. I walked out, and I felt so strange, like I was alone in a friend's house, a house which I'd never seen.

My first stop was the living room, just down the hall in front of me, but I didn't know that at the time. I didn't even have to walk to the living room to see a man, who was on the floor, and he too, was dead. I knew he was dead just by one look, but I refused to believe it, and I ran into the living room to check. I leaned over the man, took him in my hands, and something ticked. I knew him, I knew him, I knew him. That's all my mind would say.

The man had black hair like the baby, but not the green eyes, instead he had warm brown eyes, but I couldn't look at them for very long. Staring into a dead man's eyes was very strange. Besides, he was most likely marred, right?

I looked up from the man, and let go of his head from my hands. In front of me was a picture, a picture of a family, and it was moving. 

I wasn't in a state to notice that the picture was moving, but I did look at the people in the picture. There was the man that was on the floor, waving at me with a smile. To his right was the baby, being carried by a woman with red hair and green eyes. I started to run.

I looked for the mother everywhere, though it was difficult, since there was so much that was unfamiliar to me. But at the same time it was familiar to me. It was as if I was in a place I knew, though I couldn't really know if I was right.

After I searched the house 3 times, I went back to the living room, to take a look at the moving picture. Only then did it occur to me that it was moving.

I gasped. How could a picture move? Pictures were supposed to stay still, and be admired, they were not free to move about, but there the picture was, moving around as if it was in it's own world. 

It felt like forever since I woke up, but in reality, it had only been 20 minutes. My eyes wandered off the picture as I heard footsteps behind me.

Footsteps why did that seem familiar? The footsteps scared me, and made me freeze for some reason, some reason that I still don't know.

"Lily?" The person asked. Who's Lily? I thought to myself. Probably the woman in the picture. I didn't move, I kept my eyes on the picture, expecting it to tell me something, anything, but they just kept smiling at me.

"Lily?" The voice asked again. This time, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to it. A man, about 25 was standing there. He had dark brown hair, and eyes that were hard to place. Were they green, or were they hazel? 

"Lily, I'm here for you." The man said again.

"You must be mistaken. I'm not Lily." I said, brushing off the hand he had on my shoulder. Then I thought 'Who am I then?'

"Lily, are you nuts?" He asked me.

"I guess you could say that." I said, putting my eyes back on the picture. I felt like I was going crazy. I had no idea who I was, or where I was, or what happened.

"Those two, I found their bodies." I said, pointing to the man and the infant. I couldn't bring myself to say that they were dead. "I can't find the other one." I said to the man. I don't know why I was telling him, but I seemed like he knew the family. The man turned to me, as if I were insane.

"Of course you can't find her Lily, that's you." He said, pointing to the woman.

"What?" I said. That was impossible. I didn't even know these people.

"Lily, look." The man said, taking a small mirror from his back pocket. I then noticed what he was wearing over his clothes. A long, black robe was dangling off his neck, and flowing in the back. I did not ask questions about what he was wearing, because I looked into the mirror, and saw the woman, the woman whom I was searching for, the woman in the picture, and the woman who belonged to this family.

I don't know why, but the first question I asked was, "Who are you?" 

"You don't remember me, Lily?" He asked, looking a bit hurt.

"Don't take it personally." I said back to him. "I didn't know my name was Lily." 

"Sirius, Sirius Black." He said to me. "James is my best friend." I was pretty sure whom he was talking about, and I admired that he wasn't going to refer to him in the past tense. I looked over to him, and handed back the mirror, which was still clutched in my hands. He looked like he was about to go to tears. 

I hugged him, it looked like he needed it. I felt guilty for not crying along with him, but I didn't know these people, didn't remember them. More guilt fell upon me.

He tried not to show the tears, but I knew. We separated, and just looked at each other. It looked like the shock of the deaths just came right now. He was dazed, and he just stared at nothingness, and I just happened to be in the way. I tried to remember, remember me, my family, my house, my friends, but nothing. I couldn't remember anyone I knew. I felt so alone.

"Mr. Black, Mrs. Potter, you need to come with us." Sirius turned to the voices, but I didn't. I didn't know I was Lily Potter. 

"Lily, that's you." Sirius whispered to me. He seemed to figure it out, that I couldn't remember, but I could tell that he didn't know why.

We walked out of the house, and other people came in, they took the bodies, and looked around the house, trying to figure out the 2 died. They were all carrying around sticks, and muttering things under their breath.

They told me to touch a tin can. I didn't know why. Sirius told me that it would be ok, and that he would explain to me later. I trusted him, and touched the can, and I felt myself being pulled by my navel. In about 10 seconds time, we were in a small room. It was lighted by some candles on the walls, and there was a table smack in the middle of the room, which took up most of the space in the room. We were told to sit down.

They asked Sirius a series of questions, and then they turned to me.

"Lily, could you tell us what happened?" The man asked me. I stared at him with an empty face, not knowing what to tell him. I felt like a child who was give a test that they didn't study for. I felt stupid.

"Moody, she doesn't remember anything." Sirius told the man in front of us.

"Nothing?" Moody asked more suspiciously. 

"She didn't know who she was when I got there." Sirius said. That made me feel dumber than before. I wanted to talk for myself, but I couldn't, I didn't know anything.

"Would you please step outside?" Moody told us more as a command than a request. Two other men walked in. Sirius told me that they were Bartemius Crouch and Cornelius Fudge. We sat in silence outside of the room, neither of us really wanting to talk. All I needed right now was more to clutter up my already confused head.

It seemed like we only sat there for a few minutes, but I looked at a clock in the hall we were sitting in, and exactly one hour had passed before we were called in.

We both walked back into the room, and took our regular seats. One man, Cornelius Fudge, had a sorry look on his face, a face of pity. Crouch had a look of determination on his face, like he had just won a million dollars. Moody face was expressionless; you could not read him or what he was thinking.

"Sirius Black, Lily Potter," Moody started. "you are being convicted for the murders of James and Harry Potter." 


End file.
